Biting Winds
Page 20
"Give her a little milk and a lotta’ sunshine and she's happy all day long," my daddy, Steven Sumner said as he threw me up into the heavens, catching me with his big, strong worker hands.
There was never a doubt that my daddy loved me more and more every day, lavishing me with kisses and raving about my hazel eyes, and long, curled lashes that could tickle him out of any ornery mood Mama brought his way. My hair grew longer in my first few years than Mama's did her whole life. My loose, glossy curls were a perfect contrast between Mama's auburn, straight hair, and Daddy's dark, thick, tight curls. Mama usually corrected people when they suggested that I looked like her. She said I was one hundred percent daddy's girl, and she was right.
"You all are gonna spoil that girl. Holdin' her all the time." Mama rolled her eyes, knowing she was going to have her hands full when I got older.
"She's a gift, Lydia. If we weren't supposed to spoil her then why did God make her so darn perfect?" Grandma Jane stole me from my daddy's arms and took her turn basking in her love for me. "Prettiest raven-haired baby I ever loved."
Even when my brother and sisters were born, Grandma Jane and Daddy's admiration never wore off, often bringing the wrath of extra chores from Mama. The only time I really cared was when I was stuck doing chores inside, under the watchful eye of Mama. Maybe the searing eye of Mama would be a more accurate description. She made me wash, wash again, and rewash the table when I knew darn well it was clean. She used to make me polish it with oil over and over, too, until Daddy told her he was going to stop buying the furniture oil because she was using it so fast. He didn't know it was me because Mama would never do that in front of him. I wasn't about to tell him either, because the last time I complained about Mama grabbing me by the apron and shaking me, it was all bad.
"What happened to the apron?" Daddy asked as he watched Mama sew the ties back on. "I brought that one home barely sixmonths ago."
"I couldn't tell you," Mama lied. "The girl's hard on her stuff. She ain't got no value for your hard work."
I couldn't stand the thought of my daddy believing that, and even though I knew I'd be in trouble for eavesdropping, I stepped out of my room.
"That's not true!" I stomped my foot, like a toddler throwing a fit, but I was mad. "You broke it when you shook me."
She stared dead at me, and I immediately knew that eavesdropping wasn't the biggest mistake I made tonight. Tattling was.
"Lillian, how could you say such--" she started, but was immediately cut off by Daddy.
"Quiet!" Daddy roared, holding his finger up to Mama. Then turning to me, "Lilly, you have no place in this conversation. It's between me and your mama. Get back to bed and mind your business."
I backed into my bedroom and climbed into bed next to my snoring brother. He was so lucky to already be asleep. I lay in bed, praying to God for forgiveness, and begging him to protect me from Mama tomorrow. I tried hard not to listen, but their voices raised above my prayers, and through the pillow I wrapped my head under. I even hummed my bible school songs, trying to drown them out. For the most part, I did. But each had a handful of words that penetrated through my sound barrier. My daddy emphasized words like trust, lies, responsibility, cruel, and child. Most of Mama's words were mumbled, but the ones I heard were forced, tried, and unfair.
"You promised, Lydia. You made a promise before me, and more importantly before God. Nobody forced it upon you, and it's about damn time you stepped up to fulfill that role. She's a child. At the end of the day, she's a child." I heard Daddy slam out of the house.
"Your child!" Mama screamed out the door.
I knew immediately that Daddy was coming back in when I heard a little scream come out of Mama, and the door banged against the wall.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Mama sobbed. "Let go of me. You're squeezing my arms."
"I have never put my hands on a woman, Lydia, but so help me God, if that girl heard what you said I will bury you next to my mother."
"Steven, I'm sorry. Please, let me go."
I heard what sounded like Mama being shoved into the wall, and then my daddy's hard footsteps coming towards my door. He opened it slowly.
"Lilly?" He called softly. "Lil, you awake?"
I knew it was dishonest to pretend like I was sleeping, but no matter how mean Mama was to me I didn't want her to die, and I surely didn't want the sheriff taking my daddy away. I should have never told on Mama. It was my fault she shook me anyhow. I was slow doing my chores, and when I was sweeping the floor the broom hooked into her knitting project and pulled out several of her hooks. Intricate hooks was the word she yelled at least three times when she was shaking me by the apron.
It was my fault for daydreaming. I knew it. And I couldn't let Mama get in anymore trouble. So, I didn't answer.
"She's asleep." Daddy was still talking to her in his angry voice, though he was trying to be quiet.
"Steven--"
"No! Listen to me. I have never treated you as if you were second to my first wife, and I prayed you wouldn't do it to Lillian. God knows, I prayed." Daddy's voice cracked, and I could tell he wanted to cry. Daddy never cries.
"I'm sorry," Mama whispered through her tears.
"Then I advise you get on your hands and knees and pray to God for forgiveness, to soften your heart, and to help you honor the promises you made and broke since the day I laid that girl in your arms. I didn't ask you to be her Mama, did I?"
"No, you didn't."
"You asked me! You offered! You promised! And you lied."
"I tried. I swear Steven, I tried. I didn't know it would be this hard."
"Hard? What is so damn hard about loving an innocent child? What did she ever do to you, Lydia, but love you whole-heartedly?"
Mama didn't answer.
"Nothing. That's what. She's done nothing to deserve you treating her the way you do."
"I don't know what comes over me," Mama admitted.
"Jealousy, Lydia. And for no good reason."
"You love her more than me," Mama accused. "You are always hugging her, and laughing with her, and giving her attention, and you want nothing to do with me."
"That," Daddy corrected, "is how I treat all of my children. I love them all, equally. But yes, you will find me with Lilly more so than the younger ones. And do you know why that is?"
"No, I don't."
"Tell the truth, for once, Lydia. Why don't you take a wild guess?"
"Because she reminds you of--"
"Don't you dare." Daddy pounded his fists on the kitchen table. "Don't further insult me with your childish ways. It's because I have to make up for what you do to her. For your lack of love and affection. I know you will take care of our other children. I know you will hold them and sing to them and tickle them, but since my mother passed away I've had to leave this house with a heavy heart, knowing that you will be unfair to my eldest daughter."
"Steven, I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't. I can change. I can. I thought you loved her more. Differently. It was a mistake."
"Do you hear yourself? Do you think a normal, God-serving woman would utter those words from her mouth? There was a mistake made, Lydia. And I was the one who made it."
"Don't. Please don't say it. I'm begging you."
"Unlike you, I intend to speak the truth. With the exception of my other three children, marrying you, trusting you with my daughter has been the biggest mistake I have ever made. The biggest disservice to my daughter. And it is a mistake I will spend the rest of my life making up to her."
I heard my Daddy slam back out of the front door, and I was crying as hard into my pillow as I imagined Mama was crying into her hands.
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